


Reports

by katling



Series: Dragon Age Alternative Pairing Week [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, can be read as pre-romance or friendship, cassandra hates writing reports, varric gets carried away by the story sometimes, whichever you prefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra hates writing reports. Varric doesn't much like it either but it makes for a handy olive branch when seeking peace with the Seeker.</p>
<p>Written for Day 8 of the Dragon Age Alternative Pairing Appreciation Week - Freestyle (or write what you want). This was originally aimed at one of the earlier days but veered off fairly quickly and didn’t fit anywhere else. It features Varric and Cassandra and can be read as either friendship or pre-romance, whichever you prefer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reports

Varric stared at the door to the smithy and rocked back and forth on his heels. He wasn’t actually sure he should be doing this. He was aware of his reputation of being able to handle people but it was only partially true. He could spin a good tale and he was an exceptional liar but when it came to actually dealing with people, he actually wasn’t that good.

When it came to grouchy Seekers who probably still wanted to punch his lights out, he was hopeless. Entirely out of his depths. And yet… he didn’t want to leave things the way they’d been when the Inquisitor had let him escape. It didn’t seem right and if there was something Varric hated more than red lyrium, the Merchants Guild and Sebastian combined, it was when his damn conscience started giving him sleepless nights.

He knew he’d been giving Cassandra a hard time. He’d decided to hold a grudge about the interrogation and he hadn’t let it go. He’d needled her and knocked back more than one perfectly reasonable overture she’d made. Yes, he’d been petty and selfish but she’d had him captured and dragged into an interrogation, dammit! She’d stabbed him in the book even!

He sighed and squared his shoulders. It had to be done, there was no help for it. His conscience had been nagging at him for days and yes, perhaps waiting until the Inquisitor was gone and thus unable to run interference or save his sorry arse was a bit stupid of him but he was a big boy. He could do this without needing a protector.

He pushed the door open and walked it. At this time of the evening, the smiths had packed up and left so it was refreshingly quiet in here… at least until he realised he could hear a low, familiar voice cursing from up above. He made his way up to the balcony and saw Cassandra sitting at the table there, a pen clutched in her left hand and a very frustrated expression on her face.

“Didn’t know you were a lefty.”

Cassandra gasped and gave a start at the sound of his voice and then she levelled a scowl at him that would have made a braver – or perhaps smarter – person than Varric step backwards.

“What do you want, Varric?”

Her voice was flat and unfriendly and Varric almost gave it up then and there but then he remembered his determination to at least try and settle things between them and he instead stepped forward towards the table.

“Anything I can help with?” He grinned, knowing he was probably taking his life in his hands with that action. “I do have a way with words, you know.”

He let his grin widen at the suspicious look the Seeker gave him then she sighed. “I… do not.”

She hesitated again and Varric closed the gap between them and looked down at what she was writing. It looked like a report of some description, though who she could be reporting to was beyond him.

“It is everything I can remember of the attack on Haven,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “Someday people are going to ask what happened and they should have a clear and unbiased record. But I have no great skill with writing. It is flat and tedious.”

“Come now, Seeker,” Varric said reaching out for the report and tugging it out of her grip with a deft flick. “It can’t be that bad.” He read the first couple of paragraphs. “Alright, maybe it is.”

Cassandra gave what he thought was an irritated sigh but when he risked a look at her, she seemed more defeated than anything else… and oddly enough, faintly amused. Though he was pretty sure he must be imagining that last bit.

“Look, it’s not unsalvageable,” he said. “Budge up.”

She gave him another of those narrow suspicious looks then she shifted over on the bench and he sat down next to her.

“Your problem is you get a bit ‘and then, and then, and then’, which even in a report gets boring,” he said, picking up a pen and a new piece of paper. “You’ve got to… change it up a bit.”

“I’m writing a report, not a story,” Cassandra objected.

“A report is a story,” Varric replied. “Just one told a bit more formally.” He grinned at her. “And with a little less exaggeration.”

“Hmph,” she said, giving him another of those narrow-eyed looks that seemed to hold hints of amusement in it but then she gestured for him to continue.

Varric leaned over and began scrawling sentences down. “I mean, you’ve got a great grasp of the details… hell, half of this stuff I didn’t even notice and I was there… you’ve just got to let it flow.”

Cassandra leaned in close and started reading what he was writing over his shoulder. He quickly became aware that the steely Seeker was… wearing some sort of perfume? He blinked at the thought and then pushed it aside. It didn’t seem likely but there was a very pleasant scent coming from her that he quickly decided he’d better not like too much.

“That isn’t what happened!” Cassandra objected and Varric dragged his mind away from trying to figure out what the scent was that Cassandra was wearing and back to what he was writing.

“I get a little carried away sometimes,” he chuckled. “I just can’t leave a good story alone.”

Cassandra gave another one of those ‘Hmphs’ that he’d privately admit he kind of liked then they bent over the report again in what he could only call a companionable manner. It wasn’t quite how he’d thought this would go but he wasn’t going to argue. In a sense, it was probably a better peace offering than anything he could have managed with specific planning.


End file.
